A Thought for the Homeless 

Christmas and new year is over for another year and I was lucky enough to spend the festive season in the bubble of my wonderful family. Enjoying the love and happiness that only a family can give to each other.  

During the build-up to Christmas, like many of us, I went on a yearly visit to do my Christmas shopping in our town centre and every year I notice something that seems to be on the increase, homeless people. 

When I was growing up there seemed to be a stereotypical homeless person, usually a male and old, and in all honesty not many of them. That has over the years dramatically changed. Homeless people come in all types, young, old, middle aged, female and undoubtedly there are a range of reasons why they are living on the streets. After all nobody chooses to sleep rough in cold weather in the middle of winter.

As a society I have always thought the UK was a caring society, but I am beginning to doubt if we are because we are accepting these poor people having no money, no warmth and nowhere to call home as the norm. On the streets of the UK how many of us walk past and think get yourself your job, come on pull yourself together, a lot I would imagine. 

The problem is we don’t know their story. It could be drugs, depression,illness, alcohol and life just not dealing them a good deal and not being able to know a way out and giving up to living an existence that in 2016/17 has got to be unacceptable. 

This all got me thinking about a period in my own life when so easily things could have been different for me. 

About 14 years ago my first marriage was falling apart and it was at a time when I was desperately unhappy and saw no light at the end of the tunnel. I started to drink very heavily and looking for an answer in the bottom of a bottle, getting so drunk I would have no recollection of where I had been or what I done. I was also on anti-depressants, which of course was an explosive mix with alcohol. 

One minute I was angry and wanting to fight the world and the next in floods of tears looking for forgiveness from family and friends. Actually what it probably was, was self pity. 
One by one my family and friends washed  there hands of me and basically disowned me and if I’m honest I now know why. I was a nightmare. But I needed help, just anybody to help me get back on the right road. Thankfully my mum never gave up on me and let me live with her until I sorted out the demons that were running around in my head. 

I did eventually get myself sorted out and took the best part of a year, but when I see people living rough I often think that so easily could have been me. I was gradually moving down that road and I was occasionally sleeping rough as I was too drunk to get home. 

I don’t think there was any one defining moment when I realised I needed to change. I imagine it was a culmination of certain events. I was losing contact with my children, who at the time were very young and that was something that really started to bother me because I didn’t want my children as they grew older to be ashamed of me. I wanted them to be proud of me, and the way things were going they were not going to be proud of me. 

I did wake up. I did change. I stopped drinking and also weaned myself off anti-depressants, but it’s not easy.

I met the love of my life, my wife,and when you are happy it makes recovery to a better life that much easier. 

I think next time we all walk past somebody that is living rough, we shouldn’t judge them. We don’t know their story, there are numerous situations in peoples lives that have found themselves living on the streets. 

Would love to know your thoughts.